


the fifth date

by peachyteabuck



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Past Emotional Trauma, Some NSFW themes, a/b/o dynamics, vague mentions of murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 19:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16838626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck
Summary: the story of how you met your alpha





	the fifth date

The minute Bucky met you on your first date, he knew you were the one. It was a blind one, set up by your mutual friend.

Bucky thought he was just an excuse to get him out of the house, but no. It ended being the best thing that ever happened him.

The way you laughed, the way you bit your lip, the way you asked him about his day, the way you crinkled your eyes when you smiled. You were perfect, still are. The perfect mate, the perfect life partner, the perfect lover.

The next day, he started nesting in preparation.

“Stevie, I swear. I know she’s the one!” he told his best friend while buying almost a truckload of blankets and pillows at Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

“Whatever you say, Buck” Steve told him as he struggled to close the trunk of the car.

When they reached his apartment and piled all the plastic-covered bedding in the living room, he shooed Steve out. He’s an alpha, this is his job and his alone.

When he mother told him about the process of courting his father, he knew it was something special. The process of nesting, the buying and making and killing of gifts, the scenting the first time they mated. It’s such a beautiful, sacred ritual, Bucky knew he had to do it perfectly for you.

“Whoever you choose,” She told him. “Know that it isn’t just about making you feel good, it’s about building a strong foundation to a lifelong commitment.”

Bucky always listened to his mother, but this he held especially near to his heart.

On your second date, Bucky brought you cupcakes from your favorite bakery. You ate them together on your couch and introduced Bucky to your favorite TV shows.

You had a really hard day at work, and when you tried to cancel the fancy dinner date Bucky had planned for you, he refused.

If you wanted to sit a home in fuzzy socks, leggings, and a comfortable sweatshirt, then that’s what you were gonna do. The only condition is that you had to do it with Bucky.

“I feel like this is a shitty second date,” you told him while liking some stray frosting off of your finger.Your legs were draped over his, your back supported by a few pillows. All Bucky wanted to do was lay there, inhaling your scent. But you needed something to keep your mind off of one of the worst days of your career, and reruns of Dr. Phil sure as hell weren’t gonna do it.

“Nonsense,” he said, wiping a smudge of cupcake from the side of your mouth. Heat rushed to your face at the intimate contact. “This is the perfect second date.”

You laughed a little, eyes glued to the screen across the room. “And why is that?”

Bucky smiled down at you, using his metal hand to turn your face to him. He knew what you were doing, trying to avoid eye contact because you were scared of…well, actually, you weren’t sure what you were scared of. All you knew was that you were absolutely petrified. “Because I get to spend time with you.”

All you could do hide the warm feeling in your face, you and him laughing at the woman who had hidden not one, but two pregnancies from her overbearing in-laws. You fell asleep soon after, with you head on Bucky’s lap. He readjusted you so that you were on top of him, and rubbed your back while you slept off the day.

On your third date, Bucky basically asks you to mate with him. Kind of. Maybe.

“Do you wanna come back to my place?” he asked on your way home from dancing. That’s when you realized you had never seen it. Ever. You’d heard stories, heard him talk about his home. His large bachelor bad which he kept impeccably decorated for work. You were dying to see it, but you worried it was too early. He fell asleep at your apartment three days ago, why did you care so much about traditional timing.

“Mmm,” you say, genuinely thinking it over. “Depends on what you want to do after.”

He grabbed your hips, pulling your close to him on the street corner. It was surprising, but not unwelcome. The night air nipped at your sweaty, exposed skin and made you shiver. You leaned into him, watching the traffic go by.

“Anything you want, darling” he whispered into your ear. This, too, sent goosebumps all over your body.

You pushed him away. Lightly, playfully. A shove to let him know he needed to wait a little longer. Not a “never,” but a “not yet.”

Instead, you find some fast food place and eat your weight in french fries while you fight about the best tropical fruit. Bucky had argued pineapple, you chose mango.

At first is was friendly competition, but then it got heated. Now you were playing to win.

“I’ll kiss you if you agree with me,” You offered, munching in the last fry.

“Deal,” Bucky said, leaning over the couch for his smooch. It was your first kiss, but it felt like you had known his lips forever. It was beautifully and wonderfully cliche.

The day of your fourth date, you fell ill with a nasty cold. Your throat felt like a broken garbage disposal, your nose was running, your stomach hurt. You felt like the word “ugh.”

First you called out of work. Then you texted Bucky in an effort to cancel your date.

But, yet again, he wouldn’t let you. He texted back he’d be at your place with the perfect care package and that he was determined to take care of you.

You texted back he was being dramatic - it’s a cold, not pneumonia - and fell back asleep.

He showed up less than an hour later, knocking on your door with soup, Gatorade, ginger ale, and every season of American Horror Story.

Three pieces of toast and half the soup later, you’re cuddled under a thin blanket - the same one as last time, soaking up his warmth and comforting smell.

Occasionally, you’d use the cold of his metal arm to cool your forehead down. You weren’t running a big fever, you maybe were at 99 degrees, but it still felt really good.

“This is nice,” you murmured.

“Yeah.” he agreed, noticing your sleepiness. He turned the show down just as someone was being gutted, wanting to make sure you were able to get the rest you needed. You were cuddled in his chest, surrounded by him.

You felt safe with him wrapped around you, just like a good alpha should make you feel. After a short nap and two more characters brutally murdered, you start having deep conversations.

It started with him asking you met Steve and how you trusted him enough to set you up with his greasy, but adorable, best friend.

Bucky talked about how he lost his arm, how his prosthetic is one of kind. How he’s a lab rat, how it was the the only thing that got him out of losing his arm.

You talk about your childhood and how shitty it was. How you ended up with a shitty boyfriend in college who made you feel like shit all of time before you got up the courage to leave him two years after he asked you out.

“My old boyfriend never did this type of stuff with me.” you admitted. “He only liked to do stuff when he knew people he knew would be around. It’s like he needed someone else to get him through our dates.”

“Sounds like a real dick,” Bucky said. He traced the indents the blankets on your skin. He could stay right here forever, never moving again.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “He was. Almost made me swear off alphas forever.”

Bucky smiles, wide and toothy. “Glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” you joke. “Or else I wouldn’t have met the total hunk I’m cheating on you with…”

Bucky laughs, him lighting pushing you away in faux-disgust. “How could you!? Is it Steve, tell me it’s not Steve!”  
  


It’s your turn to laugh, the deep cackles soon turning into coughs. You recover quickly, though, smile plastered on your face. This one’s a keeper.

You have your fifth date a few weeks after you feel better, both of your crazy work schedules preventing you from seeing each other sooner.

He takes you to an aquarium, and you both watch the sea turtles gliding through the water. It’s so beautiful, you’re both breathless from wonder.

After, he takes you to home. To his home, you mean. Or apartment. It doesn’t matter. It’s his.

He offers you a drink, which you gladly take. While he makes it, you take a look around. You admire the art, the beautiful decorating, the gorgeous marble countertops.

He gives you a tour, showing you around the kitchen, then the living room, then his office, then he bedroom.

The minute you step into it, you almost start crying. The large bed, the thick blankets, the distinct scent, the displaced furniture showing he had shoved his bed into the corner farthest from the door. All the signs were there.

“You started nesting,” you whisper, wiping tears from your eyes. The space is filled with Bucky, and it instantly makes you feel at peace, just like a good mate should. You feel so calm and happy and…is this what if feels like? To be in love? If so, you never want to let Bucky out of your sight. Ever.

“Yeah,” Bucky comes behind you, holding your back to his chest. “Knew we were gonna be mates the moment I first saw you, the night of our first date. Knew I wanted to be with you forever, and ever. Wanted to mark you. Wanted to be yours. Wanted to knot you real good. Wanted to make sure not a single shitty alpha ever touched you again.”

His brings his arms around you waist, talking lowly into your ear. “Then I heard about your awful boyfriend. About your parents bitter divorce. The custody battle. Knew you needed some lovin’, needed someone to show you how beautiful you are.”

He’s releasing calming pheromones, you can tell. It runs through you, sticks in your blood. The last few weeks have been hard, on both of you. This, whatever this is, is exactly what you need.

The pheromones release your tense muscles and give you a moment to forget the shittiness of everything.

He kisses your neck and you whimper. You got to grip his hips behind you and he rubs between your thighs.

“Eager, are we?” Bucky asks, his baritone voice sends shockwaves through your spine. It’s amazing, like a drug.

“Yes,” you moan. Your skin is on fire and it feels so fucking good.

He sets you down on the bed, pulling your clothes off. Your body is flush against the pillows and you feel so exposed. Normally, you’d be uncomfortable, but you trust Bucky. Trust him a lot. Trust him with everything.

“Then let’s get started, my beautiful little omega.”

You moan again. “Let’s, wonderful alpha. Let’s.”


End file.
